


A.R.G.U.S. Motors Inc.

by gipsydanger



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Author Knows Nothing, Fluff, M/M, Swearing, everyone's a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:53:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gipsydanger/pseuds/gipsydanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick Flag is a heir to his father's car business he knows nothing of, Floyd Lawton is a mechanic with a heart of gold. Sickeningly sweet AU nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September 17, Thursday

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of rattling and rumbling from under the hood of otherwise perfectly working car. Rick Flag didn't know shit about engines or oil filters (which never failed to amaze his father), so he wasn't even sure that something was wrong in the first place. (Also, if he went to repair shop straight away and the car _was_ perfectly fine, then it'd be a bit of a shame for the son of A.R.G.U.S. Motors' co-founder). But after two weeks of consideration, he finally reasoned that the noise that wasn't there before couldn't possibly be a good sign, and decided to visit Belle Reve Service Station that was situated not far from his place.  
On Thursday morning Rick parked his car at the lot in front of Belle Reve main building. The place looked pretty much like any other typical repair shop, no corporative chains' chic or neatness of his father's company garages. Flag found it somehow endearing.  
He went towards the grey building. It was considerably small, just the office with a door that led to the staff room, if the sign on it was anything to go by. At the desk by the wall sat huge menacing-looking man, and tapped something away at the computer. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at the man politely.  
"Um, hi. Something's wrong with my car, could you help me with it?" he said, thinking that he probably sounded a bit too official.  
"Sure, that's why we here." The man at the desk sounded reassuring. His name tag read _Waylon_. "What's the problem?"  
_Fuck_.  
"I'm not sure?" So much for the car company heir reputation. "It makes weird sounds when I'm driving, but everything under the hood looks as usual."  
"One of our mechanics is free right now, I'll go tell him to check your vehicle," Waylon said and left through another door, which led to inner yard and the garage.  
"Jesus fucking Christ," Rick murmured to himself, sat on a sofa and hid his face in his hands. His dad would probably be laughing his ass off right now if he was there.  
Flag heard two sets of footsteps approaching the door and quickly composed himself, fixing his tie. Waylon came in first, followed by another man, supposedly the aforementioned mechanic.  
The man was approximately in his late thirties, as tall as Rick himself, wearing an old faded t-shirt with holes in it and equally worn-out jeans, all covered in grease. Rick stood up and straightened his back, not sure why. He probably just wanted to seem as big as the mechanic, is all. Subconscious competitiveness or whatever.  
"So, where's your car?" the man asked and smiled ever so slightly.  
"It's outside," Rick said and immediately felt the urge to slap himself across the face. But the mechanic just laughed and started towards the parking lot. Flag followed suit.  
"The dark grey one," he said and pointed at his sedan.  
"It seems fairly new, what is the problem exactly?"  
Rick repeated what he said to Waylon and now was staring down at his shoes. The laughter he expected to hear never came. Flag felt almost sorry, the sound was kind of hot.  
The man asked him to open the hood instead. He inspected the engine and all the other parts that were immensely important for the car's working process (which was precisely how Rick called them) in two minutes time.  
"Nothing serious here, just a worn fan belt. I'll fix it in like half an hour," said the mechanic and looked at Flag expectantly.  
"Sure, great, thanks," he muttered and handed his car keys to the mechanic. "If it's just half an hour, could I stay here till you've finished?"  
"Yeah, no problem. You can stay with Waylon at the office, or go to the garage with me. Anyone's a better company than Chato the grump." The man grinned like he was genuinely excited for a companion.  
"The garage it is."  
\---  
The driveway curved around the office building and ended at the massive doorless garage. There were five slots with holes in the ground to get under cars, with all kinds of equipment all over the place. No other mechanics could be seen, and there was only one vehicle with an open hood and half of the engine spread on the rug next to it.  
"This looks serious," Rick said, looking at the mess of metal parts covered in grease, some of them seemingly burnt out.  
"Yeah, the owner loves this baby to death, but rides it like a goddamn racing horse. He comes back every other month with the parts broken that couldn't possibly _be_ broken. Every time it's like a challenge to find the damage, let alone fix it, but Chato manages."  
"So it's just the three of you working here?"  
"Basically," the mechanic's voice echoed from under the hood, "but there's not much work to do, so we're good."  
"Aha, so it's Waylon, Chato and..."  
"Floyd Lawton."  
The man showed from behind the car, stretched his hand towards Rick and beamed at him. Flag shook the hand, smiling back.  
"Richard Flag, but Rick is good."  
Lawton returned to his work.  
"So, Rick."  
"Yes, Floyd?"  
"Sorry in advance for the question, but where'd you get this baby?" He patted the side of the car, not looking away from what he was doing under the hood. "As far as I'm concerned A.R.G.U.S. Motors announced their last launch like two months ago, isn't it a bit early for another one?"  
"It's not official yet, so no announcements until December. But I, um, kinda close with the management." _Here we go._  
"Got a friend in business?" asked Floyd teasingly.  
"Not a friend, no." _This is gonna be so embarrassing._ "My dad was a co-founder. I'm one of the CEOs now, actually."  
It was practically a murmur by the end of the sentence. Lawton's head showed again, with slightly curious expression on his face.  
"That's huge, man." He then narrowed his eyes a bit, like he was deciding something. "But you don't seem all that proud and shit."  
Rick sighed.  
"I guess I am. It's just that I'm not feeling like running around and telling everybody about this. I mean, I'm not even doing anything a CEO does."  
"How come?"  
"Dad founded the company with Amanda Waller, and they both were the presidents, with equal authority and all that. I never had any interest in cars, to be honest, but he suggested I still work with him, on any position I find appealing, so I went for marketing. My degree was suitable for that. And then Dad died, and I inherited his position. But Waller knew it's not something I burned with anticipation of doing, so now I'm the CEO on paper, but still work in marketing department."  
"Interesting."  
"Is it?"  
"Yeah, I mean, guys with rich dads are usually craving to get their place, prove themselves worthy and shit. Not that I know of it from experience." Lawton shrugged.  
"I don't know any other guys with rich dads, so it's not my place to tell."  
"Aren't most employees there are?"  
"No, it's actually the company's policy not to hire relatives or friends just because of the relations. My dad decided to start working on his own because most of the workplaces are corrupted in a way."  
"But he hired you." Floyd raised an eyebrow. Rick rolled his eyes.  
"As I said, I've got a degree in design, so it wasn't for nothing."  
"So that Waller lady is the only one in charge now?"  
"Well, she's keeping me away from boring weekly meetings, basically because I fell asleep during one of them once, but big decisions are made with the whole board of directors, including me. She's tough woman, and I trust her with my life, so no trust issues here."  
“Huh.”  
“Yeah.”  
They fell silent for a while, Floyd fumbling under the hood and Rick just sitting by the side of the car. Five minutes later Lawton straightened up, wiping hands on the dirty rug.  
“Done,” he said and grinned.  
“How much is it?” Rick asked in response, standing up and looking a bit at loss.


	2. September 18, Friday

“What’s with the shit-eatin’ grin, Flag?”  
Harkness was smooth as always. It was nine in the morning, which was way too early for this bullshit.  
“The fuck you talking about, Digger?” Rick asked, looking up at the Australian with pleading eyes.  
“You look like you just had great shag, is it so?”  
“Jesus, no. It’s called good mood, ever heard of such?”  
“Sure, mate, just try not to irritate the folk too much with that happy face of yours.” George slapped Rick on the back and left the room.  
Fifteen minutes later he came back with June by his side, chattering in an accent only she understood in all clarity. It was the thing of legends how incoherent they got when discussed something they both were passionate about. Flag sometimes wondered how he was even able to work with the two, let alone became friends, since half of what they were saying sounded like a complete gibberish to his American ear.  
Moone set three to-go cups of coffee on the big conference table, then the box of doughnuts and croissants next to them. Rick barely made a grab at his drink when she chuckled at something inappropriate joke Harkness told her, then turned to him and chirped, “So, what is up with you lately, Rick?”  
He rolled his eyes and groaned.  
“You people are just mean. Nothing is _up_ , can’t a guy be in good spirits once in a while?” He crossed his arms over his chest, a childish gesture, but that’s how he became when other people acted like infants around him.  
“You’re always in good spirits, and it’s not that,” Digger teased, pointing his index finger in Flag’s direction and narrowing his eyes.  
Then he and June suddenly stopped interrogating Rick and settled on their food instead. Flag considered them for a moment, waiting for another verbal attack, but none followed. They sat like that for some time, room filled with quiet slurping and chewing. Then Rick finally gave in, putting his hands on the table and hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.  
“It’s a guy,” he muttered, his voice muffled.  
“What is it, sweetheart?” June asked softly, but clearly amused. Flag looked up at her.  
“Don’t you sweet-talk me, Moone, it’s not gonna help.”  
“Shuttin’ it.” She made a gesture of zipping her mouth and throwing away the key.  
Rick’s friends were eyeing him expectantly from either side of the table. He sighed, sinking deeper into the chair.  
“So, my car broke down,” he started reluctantly, “and I went to the service station near my place, Belle Reve.”  
“Why didn’t you go to our mechanics?” Harkness interrupted.  
“Have you seen the chief one?”  
“The guy with green hair, funny look in his eyes?” Moone specified.  
“Yeah, that one. He’s fucking insane, man, and I’d rather not meet him ever again, if I can help it.”  
“Gotcha,” Digger nodded.  
“What’s with the Belle-something guy?” June pushed, eager to know the details for some reason.  
“He’s, um, a mechanic there. We were talking while he fixed the car, and he’s just so nice, with that smile and pierced ears, and the fucking _voice_!” Flag banged his forehead against a wooden surface slightly.  
“Aw, someone’s pinin’.” Harkness smirked at Moone, looking like a proud father. “And what is the boy’s name, Ricky?”  
June snorted rather inelegantly. Rick was still sitting with his face flat on the table.  
“It’s Floyd.”  
“Ooh, I like that.”  
“Yeah, it’s great, and so on,” Harkness started, sounding a bit more serious, “but the question is,” he put his index finger in the air, “what’s the plan.”  
“Yeah, _the plan_ ,” June echoed with conspiracy notes in her voice.  
“No plan, you vultures.” Flag sat straight and finished his coffee. “We met once on accident, is all.”  
“Like hell it is.”  
“The fuck’s with you, shithead?”  
Rick blinked at both of them. “What?”  
“Since when does Richard Rogers Flag give up on hot people he met once?”  
“Okay, Harkness, so your point being…?” Flag asked expectantly.  
“His point is that you should drag that pretty arse of yours to the Floyd’s shop and ask him out, you wanker.” June was graceful as always. Rick looked positively miserable.  
“I’m pretty sure he’s straight.” It was a weak reasoning, but he didn’t want to break just yet.  
“Well, you ask and then bugger off if it’s a lost cause, no biggie. It’s not like you’d have to see him again after that.” Harkness in fact had a point, and when this happened, there was no way for Flag to win an argument. He mumbled something under his breath.  
“What was that?” Digger teased, putting a hand to his ear as if to hear better.  
“I said I’ll go.”  
“That’s our boy,” Moone exclaimed and high-fived Harkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely sorry if my portrayal of British and Australian accents is shit, and I'm aware that they do not sound the same, but I just feel that it's easier for them to understand each other than for an American.


	3. September 21, Monday

The day at work wasn't exactly hectic. No big meetings or upcoming campaigns to manage, just routine fooling around with local advertising for the last announced launch. The most tiring were Moone and Harkness flashing him secretive smirks as if him going to Belle Reve later that day had any effect on their personal well-being.   
When he sat in his car at the company's parking lot and thought that it was finally over for tonight, his phone buzzed with two text messages in a row. One was from June, another from Digger, both containing nothing but encouraging emojis. Sometimes he wondered why he, a grown-ass man, was friends with those overgrown children.   
\---  
It was around seven and the sun was already setting. Belle Reve's parking lot seemed ethereal, all orange colours and empty spots, with only two vehicles at the far right from where Rick parked his.   
Waylon sat in his chair by the desk, reading a really large book that most likely was an encyclopedia.   
"Hey," Flag greeted the man.   
"Oh, hi." He put the book down. It turned out to be _A Field Guide to Western Reptiles and Amphibians_ , which was intriguing in and of itself. “You’re the guy that came here a few days ago, with, um, broken fan belt, right?”  
“Yeah, that’d be me.”  
“Is anything wrong with it again?”  
Rick was puzzled as to why anything would be wrong with recently fixed mechanism, but then thought harder about it, and it was probably why people _usually_ came back days after their previous visit.   
“No, no, of course not, everything’s just fine with the belt and my car. I was wondering if Floyd’s working today, I’d like to see him- speak to him.” _Fucking great_.  
“Okay, sure, he’s at the back,” Waylon said and returned to the reading.   
\---  
Turned out Lawton wasn’t alone this time. Another man sat by the side of the car Floyd was fixing, just like Flag a few days back. The man had tattoos all over his face and arms, and no hair on his head. Not even eyebrows. Rick was impressed.  
The mechanics were talking to each other lazily. Flag approached the two.   
“Um, hi.”  
Lawton turned to look who was talking, and warm smile ghosted over his lips when he saw Rick.  
“Hey man, what are you doing here? Is something wrong with the car?”  
“No, the car’s great, no problems there. But I wanted you to- um, I wanted the full check, you know, to make sure no other mechanism is about to break or whatever.” Flag tried to be as nonchalant as possible, but when did it work anyway.  
“Is it urgent? Full checks take a long time, and we were about to wrap it up for today.” He pointed at Chato and put his hands on his hips, waiting for Rick to answer. But before he had a chance, Floyd spoke again. “Oh, sorry for my manners. That art installation over there is Chato, you know, the one that likes the challenge.” He sent Flag secretive smile, like it was some inside joke they shared. “Chato, this is Rick, the customer from last week.”  
“Nice to meet you, Chato. I like the tattoos, by the way, looks awesome,” said Rick honestly.   
“Same here, bro. And thanks, not everybody’s able to appreciate them”. He glanced in Lawton’s direction reproachfully. Floyd made a face.   
“So, about the car,” Flag chimed in, “it’s no hurry at all, I can leave it here for however long it takes.”  
“Then sure, full check it is.”  
“I’ll go get it,” Rick nodded and started towards the parking lot. When he disappeared around the corner of the office, Chato spoke in angry whisper.  
“Ask him right now.”  
“The fuck, Santana?” Lawton whispered back just as forcefully.  
“Ask him out when he comes back, or I swear I’ll tattoo your ass in your sleep.”  
“You don’t have a key to my apartment, you savage.”  
“I’m resourceful,” he replied and smirked meaningfully. Floyd was going to protest, but Flag’s car showed from behind the office just in time to cut him off. He parked it in one of the slots and climbed out, handing keys to Lawton.  
Chato made a coughing noise and glanced at Floyd dangerously. The man rolled his eyes.  
"Look, Rick, me and Chato were going to the diner down the street, wanna come with us?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.   
Flag's facial expression wasn't that of nonchalance as well. His eyes widened for a second before he could help it.   
"Sure, why not."  
\---  
The diner wasn't far from Belle Reve, just a couple blocks down. They occupied the booth by the big window, Floyd and Chato opposite Rick.   
"Our friend works here, so you can be sure there's nothing suspicious in your food," Santana assured Flag before heading off to the men's room.  
"He's just being funny. It's a good place, not just because of Harley, but like, in general."  
"Copy that," Rick nodded and took a look around.   
Not many tables were taken, just a few people here and there. It reminded him of little cafés his mom used to bring him to on weekends, that had smelled like maple syrup and baked beans. It had been such magical times, with late night movie marathons and family pillow fights. He missed the comfort of his mother's embrace.   
"Rick, hey," Floyd interrupted his train of thought, "is everything okay? You look weird."  
"What- no, it's fine, just remembered something," he said vacantly, still not fully recovered from the sudden flash of nostalgia.   
"Okay, cool," Lawton responded, still slightly concerned. "Well, there she goes."  
A woman in her twenties was approaching the table. She had funny coloured hair and a tattoo on the right forearm.   
"Floyd, hi, good to see you," she spoke in a lovely voice. Then she turned to Rick and grinned at him, clearly intrigued. "And who's your friend? Would you introduce us?"  
"Harley, this is Rick; Rick, it's Harley," Lawton said and then added mockingly, "and she's serving us today."  
The woman smiled at him in return, with a smile that could only be classified as poisonous.  
"Lovely to meet you, Harley."  
"Aw, thank you, Richard, lovely to meet you too." She then stared at Floyd for a second, as if saying, _That's how you talk to people_ , and handed them the menus.   
Chato emerged from the bathroom just in time to catch up with leaving Harley. They hugged and exchanged a few words, obviously happy to see each other. The woman laughed wholeheartedly at something Santana told her, slapped him lightly on the chest and went to the kitchen.   
"So, you met our friend," he stated more than asked Rick. "She's a good girl, and smart as hell."  
"Oh yeah, she's actually going to be a doctor," Floyd added, sounding all proud.  
"She once had to sew his sliced up side, there was blood all over, but Harley didn't even wince while patching him up," Chato uttered, jerking his thumb towards Lawton.  
"That's true, and it healed nicely, no nasty aftermath and shit. She's good."  
"How'd you cut your side anyway?" Rick wondered, amused by the people in front of him.  
"Well, let's just say this man over here can be as elegant and deft as blindfolded Jar Jar Binks on drugs." The mental image Chato supplied was enough to send Flag snickering, while Floyd rolled his eyes and leant back in his seat. This was going to be such an embarrassing evening.  
\---  
Couple of hours later they paid for the food, said their goodbyes to Harley (who unexpectedly hugged Flag and wished him luck for some reason) and left the diner. Chato elaborately shook hands with Floyd, saluted to Rick and crossed the street, heading home.  
"So, which way are you?" Lawton asked, putting his hands in his jeans pockets.  
"Farther down, just a few blocks. You?"  
"To the metro station, so, the same way."  
They went side by side, talking about some old sitcom they both watched as kids. It felt incredibly easy to find common topics, and Rick liked it more than was probably appropriate for the situation.   
"You have great friends, you know," he said after a few moments of silence. Chato and Harley stroke him as very kind, one funnier than the other, and immensely caring.   
"They are, man, they are. But the bastards also like to get on my nerves, which would be fine if I were in my twenties like they are, but fuck, I'm too old for this shit, you know."  
"And how old are you, exactly?"  
"Thirty-six."  
"I'm thirty-two, am I supposed to feel old as well?"  
"I thought you were younger."  
"I thought you were smarter."  
Floyd sighed.  
"I'm not saying I'm like objectively old or anything, but with Harley being just recently allowed to drink and Chato having a new tattoo every other month, I can't help it but feel more mature, hence older."   
"Do you feel that way with me?" Flag asked, but then processed how it should've sounded and quickly corrected himself. "I mean, we're almost the same age, so no feeling old here, right?"   
Lawton laughed kindly, bumping shoulders with Flag. "You're good, man, you're good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harley is twenty-one here, Chato is twenty-seven.


	4. September 24, Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all overly sweet mush, second-hand embarrassment and complete lack of author's knowledge of how the adult world works.

Floyd called two days later, announcing that Rick’s car was perfectly fine (complementing its construction in general) and that he could stop by to fetch it any time.  
Two days weren’t such a long term, by any means. But when a couple of people with incomprehensible accents and even worse inclination to taunt their best friends are teasing and vexing you every spare second they have, it feels like an eternity. Although Flag only had his own chatty mouth to blame, since he spent the morning after he went to the diner with Lawton whining about how bright his smile was and what amazing friends he had (just to be a bit of a prat himself, for a goddamn change).  
Rick, June and Digger occupied the marketing department conference room, each fulfilling their own assignment. None of them liked working alone, so most of the time it was the three sitting at the large table, papers sprawled all over the place, comfortably silent.  
Flag tried very hard to concentrate on the economic report he was inspecting for half an hour already, but his mind kept wandering elsewhere. His phone rang, the screen read _Floyd_.  
“Flag.”  
“Hey, man.” The man sounded hesitant. “Look, um, I know I said ‘any time’, but tomorrow I’ll be off work, so could you pick your car up today until seven? I’m really sorry for troubling you, but otherwise it’d be Saturday, and I’m sure you’ll need it before that.”  
“No trouble,” Rick said, considering whether he should ask or not, but decided to hell with it. “Is something wrong, are you sick or…”  
“No, no, fit as a fiddle. It’s just, you know, family stuff.”  
“Okay, I’ll come by later then.”  
“Great, see you.”  
The room fell into silence again, but it was obvious that the working process halted completely. Though Flag maintained semblance of a responsible employee and shuffled his papers around for good fifteen minutes, he finally gave in and took a deep breath before asking loudly, “Which one of you wants to give me a ride to Belle Reve?”  
\---  
Since both Moone and Harkness kind of gave a damn about environmental problems, they took turns driving each other to work, so there was no other way for Rick than go to the service station with both of them. He was hoping, really hoping everything went well.  
It was already half past six, and they were stuck in a traffic jam because of some dumb asshole who decided that road regulations weren’t meant for him. Flag worried. He knew there was nothing he could do, but it didn’t help the fidgeting and waves of nervousness that were coming from him.  
“No one’s givin’ a birth, mate, chill.” Digger tried to calm him down in ways only he found appropriate. “He won’t be mad just ‘cause you made it couple of minutes later.”  
“It better be just a couple of minutes,” Rick murmured, looking at his watch for the twentieth time. “He said it’s some family business, maybe someone _is_ giving birth, for fuck’s sake.”  
“People don’t give birth on demand by specific time, you dummy,” June turned and knocked on his forehead gently.  
“As well as dyin’, gettin’ hit by vehicles, and so on and so forth.”  
“Okay, no life-threatening situations then.” Flag relaxed in the backseat, putting his face against the cool side window glass.  
“On the other hand, serious surgeries people wait for months on end _are_ scheduled,” Harkness said flatly. It took June twelve minutes to calm Rick down this time.  
\---  
They made it three minutes earlier. Flag practically ran out of Digger’s car and went straight to the garage. Floyd was pacing back and forth in front of it, looking at his phone every now and then, most likely checking the time.  
“Shit, man,” Rick started the second Lawton spotted him, “there was this accident on the way here and we were stuck there for like eternity, I’m so sorry, I really hope you’re not late because of me…” he rambled, being shut up by Floyd.  
“It’s okay, Rick, it’s cool, no one’s late,” he spoke in reassuring tone, stepping closer and grasping Flag’s shoulder tightly. “I still have some time, so it’s cool.”  
“Are you sure? I can give you a lift, if that’s alright, I mean, you don’t have a car, right?”  
“No, I don’t. And I guess it is alright, if you’ve got nothing else to do, of course.” Lawton scratched the back of his neck. Rick beamed.  
“Great! Then I’ll go pay, and you drive to the front, okay?”  
“Gotcha,” Floyd said and fished the keys out of his pocket. He wasn’t wearing the old greasy t-shirt and equally dirty pants this time, but the white Henley shirt with long sleeves and black jeans that were maybe just a bit too tight for Flag’s mental stability. He sighed and went to the office building.  
Waylon was obviously going to head home as well. The book on reptiles sat on the desk, a few bookmarks sticking out between pages.  
“You’re wrapping up?” Rick asked and smiled awkwardly. “I wanted to pay for the full check.”  
“Yeah, sure. Just wait a second, I’ll get your paper.”  
“Okay.” Flag read the book title again. “You like reptiles, huh?”  
Waylon chortled, shaking his head a bit.  
“Wanted one since I was a kid. They’re graceful, I don’t really get why people find them disgusting. That’d be cool to have a crocodile in my back yard, you know.”  
“A bit dangerous though? And they need a lot of space, don’t they?”  
“Well, that’s why it’s just a thought,” the man responded sadly and handed Flag his receipt, who paid with his credit card.  
“My friends are kind of environmentalists, they often donate to animal causes, and some zoos allow them to help with transportation and treatment, where it could be done without any professional skills, of course. I think they could take you with them some time. They are,” he turned to look at the parking lot where Harkness’s car shouldn’t have been already, only to see it right there where they parked, “still fucking here.”  
The thing was, they were talking to Floyd. Rick wanted to hit something.  
“You know what,” he said to Waylon, “I’ll introduce you.”  
They left the office together, Waylon locked the door, and followed Flag who was striding towards where June, Digger and Floyd were apparently talking about something hilarious. Moone saw them first, elbowing Harkness in the side.  
“I see you met my friends.” Rick glanced at Lawton, then smiled dangerously at his friends.  
“Yeah, June was just telling me how good you are at driving.” Floyd was smirking, obviously amused.  
“Good, great. Guys, this is Waylon, um…”  
“Jones,” the man said, nodding his head in a greeting.  
“Right. This is June Moone, this is George Harkness, but nobody calls him that. I was telling Waylon that you people love animals, he does too, so why don’t you talk about this while Floyd and I aren’t here, good day!” Flag spoke in a rush, already dragging Lawton away from his friends and to the car. Once they were inside, he immediately drove out of the parking lot, still shocked.  
“Okay, first of all, you’re driving in the wrong direction,” Floyd said, trying hard not to giggle at Rick’s face. The man sent him a glance but turned the car around at the closest possible U-turn.  
It took Flag about ten minutes to come to his senses. He didn't speak, just followed Lawton's instructions on where to go.  
"Okay, look, I'm really sorry for all the circus that happened earlier, I can imagine how stupid it must've looked, and I was an asshole to Waylon, and I promise that it's not what I'm usually like."  
"Well, yeah, it _was_ kinda weird, but what I don't get is what's the big deal with me meeting your friends? They seem like good people."  
"I am not able to explain what it was right now, and I really apologize for that, so let's just forget what happened so I could be a nice customer again, and not a creepy one."  
Floyd laughed at Rick's tirade, with warm throaty laugh that vibrated through Flag's chest, leaving his lungs all tingly.  
"Okay, totally not a creep," he grinned and looked at his phone.  
"Are you already late?" Rick asked with concern in his voice.  
"We're almost there, so it's cool."  
In five minutes time they parked by an ordinary block of flats in one of the cheapest parts of Gotham.  
"Do you live here?" Flag took a look around, at the dull playground with a couple of kids on the swings, and an old woman walking a large fluffy dog.  
"No, my ex-wife does." Rick's stomach dropped at the words. Apparently, the man he was pining for was straight. "I'm taking my daughter to my place today, it's a part of the divorce agreement that I can spend time with her only once every two weeks." The man sounded distinctly angry and helpless at the same time. "So, thanks for the lift, I really appreciate."  
"Are you going to walk to your house? In this part of town? With a kid?" Flag sounded seriously concerned. Lawton frowned.  
"I do, usually."  
"No, no, I'm sorry, but not on my watch. I'm driving you guys home tonight, and it's not a question." Then Rick's confidence faltered. "If it's okay for me to meet your daughter, of course."  
"Yeah, it's okay. I'll be back in five," Floyd smiled and left the passenger seat.  
Flag inhaled deeply and then huffed. He considered the situation he's gotten himself into. The man he liked turned out to be straight and with a kid. This was the lost cause, surely. But the exact same man was also such a good company, kind and witty, with a sense of humour that resembled Rick's own so much. He felt as if something cold and sharp squeezed his lungs. He had to keep it real. Floyd was probably just as friendly with everyone else, as a part of his character. Flag always knew where he had to step back, but just this once he truly wished he didn't have to.  
A rush of air from behind brought him back to reality. Lawton opened the back door, and a little girl crawled to the backseat. He joined her, hugging her shoulders with one arm.  
"Zoe, please meet my friend Rick. Rick, this is Princess Zoe."  
The cold around Rick's lungs pulled back a little.  
"It is lovely to meet you, Zoe." He turned in his seat to face the Lawtons properly. "So, if you're a princess, it makes you dad a king?"  
She made a funny face, half-scowl half-smirk.  
"He wants to be, that's why he calls me that. But I'm gonna be a mechanic like him, and princess' dresses are pretty hard to clean, so I'm just a Zoe."  
Flag was genuinely impressed. But on the other hand, what else could one expect from Floyd Lawton's daughter?  
"Okay, King Floyd and just a Zoe, let's have a ride."  
\---  
Floyd's place was a twenty minute drive away from where his daughter lived. It was a better part of town, yet not the best in Gotham. Although at night the whole city was one bad neighbourhood.  
The Lawtons climbed out of the car, Rick following suit. Zoe sprinted towards the building immediately, saying goodbye to Flag on the run. Both men smiled at her.  
"Thanks again, man, it was really nice of you to help," Floyd put his hand on Rick's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.  
"My pleasure. Zoe is so smart, I've never met such a grown-up kid before."  
"Well, she has a good example." Lawton gestured to himself, grinning smugly.  
"I'm sure she does."  
They smiled at each other for a long moment.  
"Okay, so, I don't really know if it's an okay thing to do," Floyd murmured hesitantly, "but thanks."  
At first Flag's brain didn't register what was happening. His face suddenly became warm, and his knees weak. Only a couple of seconds later he finally got it.  
Floyd Lawton was kissing him. But before Rick could respond, the barely-there pressure was gone.  
"Oh man, it was a really bad idea, I am so sorry- " Lawton started, but was cut off by Flag's mouth on his.  
It was a careful kiss, with Rick's hands caressing Floyd's face and Floyd's arms tenderly wrapping around Rick's waist. The nasty feeling was gone from his lungs, replaced by warmth that spread through his whole body. He felt light-headed, with Lawton's tongue gently sliding over his, and his hands holding him steady, preventing from falling. But soon the desire that had been building for a week got the best of Flag's self-control, and he pushed himself against Lawton, moaning quietly into the kiss. Floyd tightened his grip and inhaled sharply at the contact.  
Rick broke the kiss, hugging the other man's neck and burying his face there.  
"It was the best idea ever."


	5. September 24, Thursday - September 26, Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a mess, but it's intentional.

Rick couldn’t sleep that night. Too many thoughts and worries were rushing through his mind, keeping his eyes open and pulse racing.   
The kiss he had shared with Floyd made each nerve in his body tingle, craving more. But with Zoe waiting for her dad to come up and spend already limited time with her, they couldn’t go for it, both slightly disappointed but high on anticipation.   
They had said their goodbyes just like that, without much of a discussion about where they stood in terms of their relationship now. There was no point of starting such conversation right away, when the blood was still boiling and hands were yearning for touch. They needed time; to think, to consider. So it took Flag the whole night to compose himself and maintain at least the façade of nonchalance.   
\---  
Sleep deprivation didn’t help much with the task. Uncontrolled smirk appeared on Rick’s face each time he got lost in thought, and his eyes were wandering around the office more than usual. He would’ve sat in his chair doing particularly nothing for the rest of the day if it wasn’t for Amanda Waller who called an urgent CEOs meeting in the main conference room.  
In five minutes time the whole board of directors sat at the conference table on the highest floor of A.R.G.U.S. Motors building, waiting for Waller herself. The tension in the room was thick and heavy, since such urgent meetings were rare and never meant any good. Amanda Waller planned ten steps ahead, and only an extraordinary circumstance could interfere with mostly scheduled activity within the company.  
“You all remember the meeting we had with the Yamashiro family,” the woman started upon entering the conference room, “and the refusal we got from their company.”  
Couple of people nodded, some sighed in annoyance. Waller continued.  
“Well, I just got the call from Japan, and apparently they have an offer for us which tops the previous deal and is very likely to actually happen this time.”  
The debate that Amanda’s statement started lasted for an hour, within which all the proposals were considered and arguments settled. Some serious change was on the way, and everything that occupied Rick’s thoughts earlier went to the background. He could finally do something huge to invest in his father’s company, and he wasn’t going to let it go.  
\---  
 _Yamashiro_ was one of the biggest names on Japan’s auto market, being a corporation run strictly by family members. They were especially known for the lack of affiliations with any of the Western countries, despite the highest quality and durability of their cars.   
Hence such an ambitious American corporation as A.R.G.U.S. Motors Inc. couldn’t miss an opportunity of being the first non-Japanese partner of a huge conservative family-run business that wouldn’t let just anyone in. It meant not only more money and connections, but the reputation no other company could even dream of having. Rick Flag’s head was spinning with the possibility. Richard Montgomery Flag had never persuaded his son to go high ranks or reign with him and Waller; he would’ve loved Rick nevertheless, no matter what he had chosen to do for a living, and Flag Jr. knew that for a fact. But he also knew how his dad’s face would light up if the man saw what he was going to do for A.R.G.U.S. He wished he could see that face again, with strong manly jaw and eyes full of joy and wonder, if you knew how to look in them. Every time Rick thought about his parents it got just that much harder to breathe.   
\---  
The plane took off in three hours, which didn’t leave much time for many things, except for packing and going through the deal-related papers. Flag only managed to inform Moone and Harkness that he’d be in Japan for a few days, and then dove into the business head first.  
At 2:03 p.m. he was standing by the entrance of Midway City International Airport. Ten minutes later Waller arrived, looking pleased but stern.  
"Ready?" she asked, approaching Rick.  
"Always."  
\---  
They were seven hours into the flight when Flag woke up from an uncomfortable nap. He needed at least that after the sleepless worrisome night before. Amanda was sitting next to him, revising the primary contract draft.  
"Morning, Richard."  
Rick blinked at her, focusing his vision.  
"How much till landing?"  
"Six hours."  
"Okay," he murmured and went to the bathroom. The mirror image wasn't pleasant in any way. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, and Flag struggled not to rub at them. Pale skin contrasted with light stubble, and he noticed wet trail coming from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Drooling in his sleep in front of Waller wasn't something he's ever done before.   
Rick washed his hands and face with cold water and stared at his reflection for another long moment, before opening the door and returning to his seat.  
"Why'd they change their mind?"  
Amanda looked up at him, clearly expecting some elaboration.  
"I mean, it was hardly surprising when the Yamashiros called the deal off last time; though I still wanna know why they wanted to work with us in the first place," Flag started, more thinking aloud than asking a question. "And it's also obvious that the second time around it cannot be for nothing, so I'm pretty sure it's already settled inside their company. So," he turned in his seat to face Waller, arms crossed over the chest. "Why?"  
She sighed, closing her eyes for a second, seemingly preparing for the conversation.   
"First of all, I don't know the whole story, but that's all you can get since your father won't be telling stories anymore." Rick tensed. "He met Mr. Yamashiro when they both were young, even younger than you are now. It was during Flag Sr.'s military training in Louisiana, I believe. Yamashiro’d been in serious trouble, either with some corrupt police force or criminal organization. Pretty desperate kind of situation. And then there was your dad, sitting at the bar, talking justice and equality for all- you know, the usual. He hadn’t been used to going to such establishments, it was just some weird circumstance that he went there with his fellow trainees that night. So, at some point he and Yamashiro happened to be engaged in a conversation, found each other’s company rather pleasant and became sort of friends, if you might call it that. Yamashiro told your father about his problem with American way of doing business, how he owed someone something and was basically threatened into going back to Japan. Of course Richard Flag, protector of the unprotected, couldn’t let such unrighteousness go, and a week later his friend’s problem has been solved. Yamashiro went back to Japan still, but said that he wouldn’t forget what your dad did for him. Hence what happens now is a debt that he’s about to pay.”  
For a couple of minutes Rick just set there, bewildered. Who would’ve thought that such reasoning could be behind the deal awaiting him? Hundreds of questions were appearing in his head with each passing second. He then stared at Waller’s inscrutable expression, and there were a hundred more.   
“My father confronted mafia?”   
If it wasn’t against her policy, Amanda would’ve laughed.  
“I don’t know exactly whom he confronted, or if there was any confrontation at all.”  
“But he did take care of Japanese businessman’s problem presumably with a lot of money involved?”  
“Mostly, yes, he did.”  
“Okay,” Flag simply said, sinking back in his seat. He had almost six hours ahead of him to reevaluate his whole life.   
\---   
The restaurant A.R.G.U.S. representatives had been invited to was very minimalistic, yet somehow welcoming. The whole central Tokyo stroke Rick as such, from what he could see on their way to the place.   
The meeting was going well. Flag had some time to digest the story Waller had told him, and was now perceiving information coming his way more or less adequately. It was mostly business talk, no references to life debts or American thugs. _It’s probably because Mr. Yamashiro isn’t there,_ Rick thought.   
Indeed, the man he tried to picture in his head this whole time wasn’t present. There were his two sons and a daughter, all roughly the same age. Turned out Mr. Yamashiro withdrew from the company’s affairs a few years back, leaving his children in his stead. It was obvious that the deal with American corporation wasn’t something they as individuals opposed to, but their expressions were steely and strict nevertheless.   
“What do you think, Mr. Flag?” Rick heard a woman’s voice asking. Tatsu, Mr. Yamashiro’s daughter, turned her attention to him, waiting patiently for an answer.   
“I think- ” he hesitated for a second, clearing his throat, “I think that it is an honor for us to be in a partnership with your family, and the trust you put in this deal wouldn’t be betrayed. But I also believe,” Flag glanced at Amanda, “that it would be a great solution for your corporation to work with A.R.G.U.S. Motors, because my father and Ms. Waller founded it on principles of honest market, working hard to build what it is now. My point being if there are two great companies willing to cooperate, only good can come out of this union.”  
“This sounds like a toast,” one of Yamashiro brothers said and raised his glass. Everyone followed suit.   
\---  
The sight of double bed in his hotel room almost brought Rick to tears. He was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, jetlag topping already hectic day, that the feeling of his body against soft bedding made him fall asleep right away, fully clothed but positively spent. It was almost midnight in Tokyo when his phone vibrated, indicating an incoming call. Flag rolled from one side to the other, dreaming of his dad’s smile and his mom’s hands. The caller gave up. Neon lights coming through the window painted the floor pink and blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off, sorry for delay, but university started, so less time for writing (whom am I kidding, I do nothing anyway). Also, let me just say that I know nothing about America, Japan, capability of army trainees to solve international business bullying, time zones and their overlapping with air flights, and everything else that I most likely OOC'ed in this chapter. I just really want this story to work. And finally, thanks to all the people who commented and left kudos on previous chapters, your support means the world to me and keeps this work alive. Love y'all xo


	6. September 27, Sunday - September 28, Monday

Flag woke up when the sun was already high in the sky. He messed the bed cover in his sleep, one corner wrapping around his leg, a pillow on the floor. It was 11:43 in the morning, more than three hours until the final meeting with the Yamashiros, where both of the companies' future would be decided once and for all.  
Rick stood up, or rather rolled off the bed, feeling most of his fatigue gone. Cool shower washed the rest of it away, and Flag felt like he could hold the world in the palm of his hand.  
He plugged his laptop in, and went to the balcony to have a look at the busy street below. It was so different from any other place he'd ever been to; it felt like you could get lost here with as much luck as in some endless forest in Ontario, wandering for hours in search of new sights.  
The laptop made a sound, and Rick returned into the room, heading for his phone first to check the notifications. He barely made a grab at it when someone Skyped him.  
Digger's face appeared on the screen, wide grin in place.  
"D'you have a secret identity of sorts?" he demanded right away, being slapped by June.  
"Move!" She pushed him in the side, clearing space for herself beside Harkness on the bed. "He meant that we miss you, and we wanna know what's up with you."  
"Yeah, how's Tokyo?"  
"Different. Jetlag's a bitch, but it's worth it, I guess."  
"Worth it as in sightseeing worthy or a new contract worthy?" June wriggled her eyebrows, waiting for confirmation of rumours that were spreading since almost all of the execs left suddenly three days ago.  
"I can't say anything yet, the meeting's in two hours."  
"I hope you're not stayin' in Japan, are you?" Digger asked cautiously.  
Flag's breath hitched in his throat. He hadn't thought about it. The deal might actually require his constant presence in Tokyo, and as much as he liked it there, staying put wasn't an option.  
"Rick?"  
"I- I don't know."  
"How come?"  
"I don't kno- I don't want to."  
"You shouldn't, then? I mean, Waller can't make you," Moone started, "can she?"  
"I have no idea, guys, I, like, actually don't know."  
"Okay, movin' on for now." Harkness nodded, emphasizing his words.  
"Oh yeah, how's it goin' with Floyd? D'you text each other every spare second?" Moone teased.  
"No, he hasn't called or texted, actually. Or, wait," Rick disappeared from the screen for a second to check the phone lying on the bedside table. "Oh."  
"What is it?" June moved her face closer to the laptop.  
"He called while I was sleeping. Shit."  
"Call back!!!" Moone and Harkness shouted in unison.  
"Hey, wow, chill. It's too late, he's probably sleeping."  
"What is he, a grandma?" Digger's expression clearly read 'unimpressed'.  
"You know what, let me get this contract over with, then you can bully me into all you want, deal?"  
"Your words, dear."  
"Whatever, Moone, what-ever." Flag inhaled deeply, then scratched the back of his head. "How's it going in the States?"  
\---  
Rick was one of the last to arrive to the Yamashiro's headquarters. The building was bigger than the one A.R.G.U.S. occupied, legacy of generations of people working towards the same goal, who had climbed to the top and were reaching even further.  
There were piles of documents on the conference table, stacked neatly near Maseo, Tatsu and Akio. They were chatting quietly among each other, occasionally addressing the rest of the company's managers to clear up some details of the upcoming deal.  
At 3:04 p.m. Tatsu Yamashiro stood up, announcing the agenda of the meeting.  
\---  
At 4:37 a.m. on September 28 the last sentence of the final contract's draft was written down. The relief that spread across the room could be felt physically. Someone popped the bottle of champagne open, and everyone drank to the shared future of the new Japanese-American business alliance. Then people started to pour out of the room, shaking each other’s hands with exhausted but satisfied smiles on their faces.  
Waller was talking to Maseo and Tatsu, probably planning the first steps in the companies’ partnership. The siblings looked tired, yet somehow enthusiastic. Flag was wondering which one of them would've lasted longer without sleep, running only on work and coffee.  
“Richard.” Akio approached Rick.  
“Please, just Rick,” he responded, standing up.  
“Oh, sure. I wanted to ask you something, can I?”  
“Of course, what is it?”  
“Have you bought a ticket to the States already?” Flag frowned, and Akio hurriedly got to his point. “We were wondering if you could stay in Tokyo for another day and go out with us, as in kind of an informal gathering. No work talk, just a chance to know each other better before all the chaos starts.”  
“Well, I- yes, no problem, that’d be great. Just message me time and place, and I’ll meet you guys there.”  
Akio nodded politely and went towards where Amanda was still discussing something with the two Yamashiros. Rick figured that Akio was the fun sibling whose job was not to let his brother and sister work themselves to death. They said their goodbyes and left the conference hall.  
“Mr. Flag, congratulations on your first big contract,” Waller said, her barely-there smile being more reassuring than the previous thirteen hours of business talk. “Your father would be so proud, you should know that.”  
“Thank you. That’s all I needed to hear.”  
\---  
_“Lawton.”_  
“Um, Floyd, hi.”  
_“Rick, hey!”_  
“Are you busy? Can we talk for a while?”  
_”No, it’s fine, I can talk. What’s up? I, uh, called you yesterday.”_  
“Yeah, sorry, I was sleeping, couldn’t hear it.”  
_”Sleeping? It was like noon.”_  
“I, uh, I’m not in the States right now.”  
_“Really?”_  
“Kinda. I’m in Tokyo, actually.”  
_”What? Japan, for real?”_  
“Company stuff, yes.”  
_”And how’s stuff? Any progress?”_  
“Huge progress. I’ll tell you more when I’m back- If it’s okay, of course.”  
_”If you mean us going out after you come back, then it’s beyond okay.”_  
“Good.”  
_”Good, huh?”_  
“Beyond good.”  
_”What time is it where you are?”_  
“Five in the morning? Maybe six, fuck knows.”  
_”Why the hell are you still up then?”_  
“The meeting ended like half an hour ago.”  
_”Shit, it better be a good bargain, with such scheduling.”_  
“I can assure you that it’s worth every second.”  
_”Looking forward to hear the details, but I kinda guess that right now you need a shit-ton of sleep.”_  
“I so do.”  
_”It was good to hear you, Flag. Let me know when you reach the mother land, yeah?”_  
“Gotcha. Night, Floyd.”  
_“Night, Rick”._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having an awful week, like, all sorts of awful, so the chapter's not that great, but I hope it's fine at least in terms of the story itself. Another important thing is that June and Digger are not romantically or sexually involved, they're just two adults having sleepovers from time to time (nerds). And as always, lots of love to all of you who left comments and kudos, your support is everything for me.


	7. September 29, Tuesday

Akio texted Rick the next day, inviting him to the bowling alley downtown. It wasn't exactly Flag's strong suit, but he liked going to the Midway City Trade Center as a child, with his mom wearing a dress that always matched her bowling shoes.  
Rick called Waller to make sure she wouldn't need him that day, then had a quick shower before heading out of the hotel. The amount of people walking up and down the street was overwhelming. Catching a cab wasn't easy, so Flag spent about twenty minutes trying to do just that.  
The drive was slow because of the rush hour, but it gave Rick time to observe the city up-close. It was certainly different from Midway City or Gotham, or any other place back in America. Tokyo seemed more fundamental, as if many centuries of its rich culture, piled up on one another, didn't let it become a shallow concrete cage, temporary and faceless. Instead the streets had their own personality, which was so fascinating to explore. It felt like the atmosphere itself was the remnant of the past.  
The buzz from his pocket brought Flag back to reality. He tried to stop himself from grinning like a complete fool, to no avail.  
**_did you know that waylon and your friends hang out?_**  
Rick recalled June saying something about the new participant of their self-declared 'green party', but he hadn't thought twice about who that might be.  
**i hope they weren't trying to initiate some kinda vegan protest in belle reve's parking lot?**  
**_nah, no extremes. your friends accents are wild, btw_**  
**you haven't heard em arguing, it sounds like such nonsense. they both love to swear**  
**_waylon seems to like them_**  
**they're good, decent even when they wanna be**  
**_how's tokyo?_**  
Flag lowered the window glass and snapped a picture for Floyd, sending it as an answer.  
**_looks busy_**  
**it's rush hour. why are you up anyway? it's like 5am in michigan**  
**_can't sleep_**  
**is everything ok?**  
**_yeah fine. happens sometimes_**  
**sorry, gotta go. drink warm milk or smh. i'll text you later, yeah?**  
Rick put his phone back in the jeans pocket, paid for the ride and climbed out of the cab. The Yamashiro siblings were already waiting for him. They greeted each other and went inside.  
"Do you go bowling at all?" Tatsu asked, changing her shoes.  
"Not really. Used to, as a child."  
"Okay, then you'll be on my team. Maseo and I are equally good, so we usually play opposite each other."  
"Team?" Flag didn't expect competition.  
"That's our family's curse," Akio laughed. "These two turn everything into violent standoff."  
"That's how a man knows his limits," Maseo uttered solemnly, though the desired effect wasn't achieved as he howled loudly when Tatsu kicked him in the shin. "A person, I meant."  
She then stood up gracefully and went towards one of the lanes. Rick could already tell that the night was going to be fun.  
\---  
They were two hours into the game, keeping pace with each other, not letting the other team win. There were a lot of inside family jokes, but some references weren't lost on Rick completely, and it was overall pleasant and surprisingly not awkward at all.  
Flag's mind kept coming back to Digger and June, and how much the way he interacted with them resembled the relationship of the three siblings in front of him. He thought that they might pass as family as well, cousins may be, considering his friends' ridiculous accents.  
"What's on your mind, Rick?"  
Tatsu appeared out of nowhere, sitting down at the little table, opposite Flag.  
"Just, uh, thinking what my friends might be doing right now. You guys remind me of them."  
"Must be tough then," she smiled. "What are they like?"  
"Loud, annoying at times. They're very smart, especially June, but love to fool around."  
"It's fun, right?"  
"Oh yeah, too much of it sometimes. We met when I started working at A.R.G.U.S. and got along, like, instantly. I never had siblings, and they're the closest thing." Rick took a sip of his cola. "Oh, by the way, is any of you guys going to the States to take care of business there?"  
Tatsu shrugged.  
"We haven't decided yet, but I think I'll go. Brothers are not the kind to change their life in such careless manner."  
"Are you?"  
"I don't know. I feel like I can be, so why not to take this chance? Oh, it's your turn!" she exclaimed, and they returned to the game.  
\---  
It was creeping close to midnight when Flag was walking down the street, following his phone's instructions. His and Tatsu's team had won, despite Rick being even less good at it than he anticipated. The players had wrapped the evening up with a bottle of beer each at the bar next door, and parted ways at the parking lot from where Flag decided to walk to the hotel.  
It was pretty cold, but Rick liked the feeling. He thought about Floyd, then reasoned that rather than thinking he could just call the man.  
_"r u busy? can i call?"_  
The answer came not longer after.  
_**"sure"**_  
Flag dialed the number, waiting for response.  
_"Morning."_  
"Night, Floyd."  
_"Shit, right, I forgot. Had another meeting?"_  
"No, went bowling with the business partners. They're siblings, our age, great people."  
_"Good, that's good."_  
"Yeah. Oh, by the way, I think I'm coming home soon, everything's done here."  
_"I, ugh, can meet you at the airport if you want."_  
Rick smiled to himself, feeling his cheeks warming up.  
"I'd like that, thanks. I'll let you know when I'm landing." There was a muffled noise coming from the speaker. "Floyd, you there?"  
_"Sorry, Chato's over here being an ass. He says hi."_  
"Hi him too."  
_"So, it's settled?"_  
"It is. How's the shop?"  
\---  
Flag met Waller at the hotel lobby, not surprised to see her working in the middle of the night even so far from A.R.G.U.S. headquarters.  
"Amanda?"  
"Oh, you're up, too."  
"Yeah, I went out with the Yamashiros. I wanted to ask, when are we going back?"  
"I'll stay here for another couple of days with Weiss, but others are leaving tomorrow. You can go with them."  
"Oh, good."  
"The flight's tomorrow morning, I'm not sure what time exactly, ask Edwards, he's still up."  
"Okay. Good luck, Amanda."  
"Thank you, Richard. Good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know the delay was huge, but there's so much going on in my life right now that I barely even have time to sleep, so please forgive such long wait. We're creeping closer to the delicious part, stay tuned (please).


	8. September 30, Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick comes back from Japan. It gets exciting but then sad. I'm so sorry.

The flight had been smooth, with Rick rewatching his favourite How I Met Your Mother episodes almost the whole time. Edwards, sitting by his side and trying to sleep, had given up and joined Flag in his marathon halfway through. 

By the time they landed, the discussion rose between the two on whether the finale made sense or was one huge pile of dog shit. Flag quickly texted Floyd by which gate to meet him and returned to the conversation. He barely missed Lawton standing in a crowd, being deep in concern about Edwards' sanity and worldview. 

"Hey, Floyd!"

"Rick!"

Flag was going to go for a hug, but Lawton's hand reaching for a handshake stopped him in mid-attempt. He tried very hard not to look at a loss.

"Floyd, this is Arthur Edwards, he works for A.R.G.U.S. too."

"Hey. Floyd Lawton." The two shook hands.

"Nice to meet you, Floyd."

"You're driving?" Rick asked, looking at Lawton.

"Yeah, borrowed Waylon's car."

"Okay guys, here's my ride. See you." Edwards saluted and went to a short brunette, apparently his significant other. He wrapped her small frame in a bear-like embrace, and they turned to leave the airport. Flag sighed to himself, then looked at Floyd and smiled halfheartedly.

"So, why Waylon's car and not yours?"

"I don't have mine. I drive a motorcycle, actually." Lawton scratched at the back of his head.

"You never mentioned."

"You never asked."

\---

"Turn left there. Third building on the right."

Floyd parked the car by the curb and killed the engine.

"Do you need help with your things?" he asked Rick, motioning to the backseat where the man's bags were.

"I've got like two bags, it's fine," Flag shrugged, but then thought twice about his words. "But, um, you can come up. If you want, of course."

"Okay, why not?"

"Well, at the airport- ugh, I thought you might not want to, y'know, you shook my hand and..."

"You were with your co-worker, so I figured I shouldn't embarrass you with some weird affection shit..."

"Because of Edwards?"

"I- yeah, you're a serious businessman, I thought you needn't any, y'know, rumors and such."

Both men were slightly uncomfortable, but Rick decided not to let the whole situation grow into something unpleasant.

"Floyd, would you help me carry my stuff up, please?"

Lawton grinned and his face lit up, Flag mirroring his expression.

"No problem."

\---

"Where to put th-" Floyd barely started when Rick opened the door to his apartment, only to be shut up with a firm kiss and strong hands on his waist. Flag didn't hesitate too much, but still left an opportunity for Lawton to pull away if he wanted to. He obviously didn't, dropping the bag on the wooden floor and grabbing a fistful of Rick's shirt to steady himself. 

"Shouldn't you be sleepy after the flight or something?" Floyd asked, tangling his right hand in Rick's hair.

"Let's say I _could_ use my bed right now," Flag teased.

"Oh yeah? I got a couple of ideas then," said Lawton and reached for another kiss. Rick had thought about the best way to reach his bedroom without separating, but the things Floyd started doing to his mouth were way too incredible to get interrupted by any other activity.

Flag never paid too much attention to kissing. It had come to him naturally, without any preceding practice on inanimate objects. No partner of his has ever complained, and Rick himself was mostly satisfied with what he received. It was always okay, thrilling - yes, but more for the reason of what followed after than because of the kissing itself. 

It was all now different. Flag felt that he could stay like this forever, with Lawton's tongue in his mouth. He wondered how good the other things must be like with him, if the kisses were already better than any blowjob he's ever gotten. (The number of those wasn't too shabby).

The pathetic sound he made when Floyd's phone rang was a bit too pathetic and maybe also too loud, but who would believe Lawton anyway if he ever decided to tell anybody about that, right? 

Rick flopped on the sofa in the middle of the living room and stared at the phone Floyd was currently talking on. But judging by the was his face lit up, it was either Zoe or... Flag wasn't sure if there were other people in Lawton's life to whom he could talk in such a loving manner. 

"Of course I'll pick you up. Give me half an hour." The second he hang up, his facial expression changed from caring to angry. "Zoe's mother forgot to pick her up from school, I need to go. I'm sorry, Rick."

"What- no, don't apologise, it's your daughter, man. I'll live," Flag laughed halfheartedly, stood up and firmly pushed Floyd towards the front door. "Text me when you guys get home."

"Thanks," Lawton said, pecked Rick on the cheek and left.

_"Well, I guess now I'm going to sleep,"_ Flag thought and started towards the bathroom to wash the sweat and dirt of the flight off.

\---

He woke up seven hours later to a complete darkness outside and one in the morning on the clock. There was also a message from Floyd, saying that everything was okay and that Zoe was staying with him for a while, until her mother would show up and ruin everybody's fun. The message was seemingly nonchalant, but Rick knew that Lawton was mad. Forcing Zoe to wait three hours until the girl finally gave up and called her dad, his ex-wife certainly angered Floyd who wasn't even allowed to be with his daughter as much as he probably deserved. Flag was sure that he was an amazing dad. 

Rick sat on the bed and sighed. He thought about how his own father would always pick him up from school, but at some point he decided that he was enough of a man to get home himself, and the same day he said so to his parents, a group of shitheads beat him up in a back alley for "looking too fucking smug". His dad was really concerned and said that all that walking home alone business was nonsense, but Flag Jr. insisted. He had thought back than that he was proving himself to his father in some way, but now, being older, he knew for a fact that all Dad ever wanted was to see him safe and happy. But back when he was a kid, seeing other boys trying so hard to be worthy of their fathers' attention, he had thought that he, too, had to lay himself out to earn love and respect. Oh, how wrong he had been.

Flag thought of a bottle of whiskey he had stashed somewhere in the kitchen and reasoned with himself that he deserved a couple of glasses. His father's company has just gotten a big fat chance to become the best one out there, so what the fuck. He deserved that. They deserved that. 

"Here's to you, Richard Montgomery Flag," Rick announced solemnly, lifting his glass. "I miss you," more quiet, downing his whiskey in one gulp. "I fucking do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. I know it's been like forever, and I'm so unbelievably sorry, but if anyone's still interested, I'm here and back again. The chapter's tiny, but the writer's block's a thing (I just called myself a writer, how about that) and I really hope it's over now. Once again, I apologise for being an arse and not posting anything in such a long time. I love y'all who's still with me and this work, it's everything, honestly xo


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